White Magic
by WolfTooth
Summary: Iceland finds a mysterious book on his bookshelf called "White Magic." The book belongs to a mysterious person named Norway. The book brings good things, but may cause more harm than good. /horrible summary
1. Who are you?

**White Magic**

A/N: So why does this idea come to me? I have no clue. I'm in the mood for a NorwayxIceland story for some odd reason. It's AU I guess.

The white haired boy was standing at his bookcase, he leaned in towards it, in search of a certain book. He couldn't seem to find it though, so he pulled out a different book, a book he had never seen in his bookcase. The spine of the book was blue, with silver lettering. He traced his fingers around the letters, "White Magic" is what they spelled. "That's odd." The white haired boy, named Iceland said aloud to himself, "I don't own a book called White Magic, nor have I ever seen it around my house." He opened up the cover to see if there was any writing on it. There was, and it said, "This book belongs to...Norway."

"Norway?" Iceland said, reading the name out loud. "Who is Norway?" Iceland at this moment didn't really care. He just shrugged and walked to his couch. He laid down and opened to the first page. Iceland lived alone, and liked to read aloud, just so he didn't feel so lonely. He started reading. "It will seem, although I'm never been to real life, very different from real life." Iceland stared quizzically at the first page. That's all it said. He flipped to the second page. It was blank. The third, blank. Fourth? Blank. Every page was blank. He flipped through the book several times forwards and backwards, trying to figure out why it was blank. After about the third time he flipped through it he came about more writing. "Wondering why the book is still blank? That's because it's not my story. It's yours." Iceland looked at the script on the page. The ink still looked wet. He swiped a finger across the blot of ink at the end of the word 'story' and the ink smeared across the page.

Iceland jumped up and dropped the book on the couch. First the fact that it belonged to a person he had never heard of. To the odd sentence on the first page. To every page being blank. To ink magically appearing on the page. After he jumped up, it started to snow inside his home. Iceland didn't think anything of the snow, until he realized that it was snowing inside his house. Iceland glanced up, last time he remembered, it wasn't supposed to snow indoors. The roof that covered his small cottage was gone.

Iceland screamed in surprise. Then he heard a few books fall out of his bookcase. Or at least he thought they had fallen out of his bookcase. The books weren't anywhere near the bookcase. Iceland approached the books to pick them up and figure out what was going on when he heard a snicker. He dropped the couple of books again whenever he saw a shadow on his wall. There was someone hiding behind one of his plants. He started to walk closer whenever a hand floated out in front of him. Iceland was sincerely terrified. The hand signaled for him to stop, and then wiggled a finger at him, with a voice saying "Don't come any closer, stand there and watch this." to accompany it. The voice sounded cold and emotionless. The hand floated past Iceland which Iceland turned to watch it. The hand didn't pick up the books, it just floated there, above the books. A blue, bubble-like aura started to form in front of the palm of the strange hand. With a chant in an unknown language, there was a flash of blue light, that Iceland hand to close his eyes because of the brightness, the house was back in order. The snow that had started to accumulate on the floor was gone, the roof was back in place, and the books were neatly back in their places on the bookshelf.

Iceland followed the floating hand back to the plant that went through the pot, back to it's owner. Iceland was still a little too chicken to look behind the large plant, and the person/thing behind the plant sighed. The person went through the pot halfway. The person was a blond man, not that much older than Iceland himself. Part of the man's hair was pinned back in a cross pin and he had a curl of hair floating out behind his head. He wore a blue sailor-type shirt, and a blue sailor hat. He had steel blue, emotionless eyes. His mouth was straight.

He mouthed one word, a name actually, that word, "Iceland." Iceland put his hands up in defense, in which the man latched onto with his own. Holding Iceland's hands, the man drifted out of the pot and onto the floor. The man stood on his tip toes and put his face extremely close to Iceland's, so close that their noses were touching. The emotionless eyes were staring straight into Iceland's violet ones. "Don't break your stare. Keep looking into my eyes." Was all the mysterious man said before both of them shot up into the sky and through the roof. The man removed one of his hand's from Iceland's, but Iceland didn't break his gaze, he wasn't able to now. He even tried to. The man lifted his hand up and the odd blue book flew right into it.

The two of them landed on a hill, a meadow. A bright green luscious meadow. With rainbow flowers dotting it. The man closed his eyes and told Iceland he could break his gaze. Iceland closed his eyes and released a breath that he had been holding. Iceland collapsed onto the white, soft surface they were on top of. Iceland sat up as quickly as he possibly could, he thought they had landed on a luscious green meadow, painted with rainbow flowers. Iceland looked around, aside from the white of the thing they were sitting on, all he saw was blue. A river. Iceland looked to the man, who kept his gaze on the book and answered the unvoiced question Iceland had. "We're on a cotton swab, floating down the Mercury River."

Iceland couldn't believe his ears. A cotton swab? Mercury River? Iceland closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. He sighed, "Alright. I have quite a few questions, but the most important one is the one I'm going to ask."

"It will be the only question I answer too. I refuse to answer any more than one." The man brought his gaze from the book to Iceland.

Iceland nodded, he was starting to get a headache. "Who are you?"

The man held up the book and opened the cover. He pointed to where it said 'This book belongs to...Norway' "I," the man said, "am Norway."

A/N: Alright, should I continue it? Should I not?

I probably will no matter what. But reviews/favorites/watches make me want to add to it faster.


	2. Magic?

A/N: Guess which website isn't blocked at the high school. Hahaha....

Well before we get to the next chapter, I had a question on a line in the previous chapter, so I'm going to explain it.

"_It will seem, although I'm never been to real life, very different from real life."_

So while I write I listen to songs that are just audio samples from different movies with some bass beats and drum mixes. Maybe you've heard some of them, Pogo makes them. He's on YouTube.... And the samples don't make any sense, but as I was listening to one it sounded like it said the above line. So I decided to add it into the story some way. Now for the explanation. Normally it would just be _"It will seem very different from real life." _But Norway wrote that line in the book to tell Iceland that whatever happens isn't going to seem real, but it is. And between 'seem' and 'very' Norway added, _"Although I've never been to real life." _he added this to clear up the fact that he's never experienced anything 'normal' to him it's always been different, magical so-to-speak. It's pretty much that Norway expects that Iceland's adventure isn't going to seem like it's real, but it really is. And Norway is justifying himself by saying 'even if I've never experienced a real-life situation, it's still not going to seem like it.'

I hope that cleared it up. But this author note isn't done yet.

Norway is going to seem like he will be in character one second, and then out the next. But I want him to be this way. Why? Because this is my fanfiction and whatever I say goes. Hahahahaha. Just kidding. There's a reason why is personality/attitude/emotionless-ness changes so often, but I'm not telling you so ha ha.

Well this is quite a novel of a note. I don't own Hetalia or the characters. (Whoops, forgot to add that.) Just the idea of this story. Happy Reading.

Iceland just stared for a second. So this was the person that owned the odd book. The person sitting on the cotton swab with him was the mysterious person named Norway.

Iceland watched Norway read the book in his hand. Iceland furrowed his eyebrows because last time he had checked, the book had nothing written in it. Norway felt his stare and turned to him. "It looks like you've already written the first page in your story." Norway let a little smile. "The first page of a story is what really makes a person want to continue reading. A powerful first page will make for an interesting story." Norway laughed once before continuing. "Looks like you need to work on your power on writing."

Iceland reached for the book. Norway handed it to him, he knew that Iceland must be curious about the book. Iceland started reading to himself at a whisper. The page had every thought and everything that he had said ever since he met Norway in it. It scared him a little. It was almost as if the book knew more about him than he did. Norway looked out in front of them and said "Get ready Iceland." Iceland nodded and held onto the book as the cotton swab tipped over and they were dumped on the bright green bank. Norway instantly stood up and dusted off his rear and front. After readjusting his hairpin and hat he reached a hand out to Iceland, who reluctantly took it.

Norway looked at the book in Iceland's hands. "It's not an amazing book right now." He sighed, "Hopefully you can make it much more interesting." Iceland just stared at Norway, to say the least he was terrified.

Norway clapped his hands together once and a silver flask with golden stars decorating it appeared in his hand. Norway flipped the lid and sniffed whatever was in it. He turned to Iceland and smiled, "You must be tired and curious after your journey. I will give you a few things, this flask included. Explore and rest a little. I have business I must attend to. But if you really need me and I'm not around, ask the book. It's pretty much a replacement for myself." He handed Iceland the flask and a few other items he conjured up. Those items included a wand, gloves, and a small bag of something that Iceland took as some type of odd treat.

Norway nodded whenever Iceland had everything in a small satchel at his side. The only thing he held was the blue book. "Well I had better be off. You may stay here or you may wander, I advise you to wander. You'll never get lost. If you have a question ask the book, or ask the pixies." Norway turned around and started walking away.

"The pixies?" Iceland asked, he hadn't seen any pixies anywhere, "There are pixies here?"

Norway let out an annoyed sigh, "Yes the pixies. They're in the trees. Call for them. They love to help." With that Norway lifted his hand above his head and snapped before being encased by a whirlwind of blue and silver glitter before disappearing.

Now Iceland was for sure scared. The only 'human' that was around here, that he knew of, had left him on his own. Iceland sat down on the grass and opened the pack to see exactly all the items he had. He set out each item one by one. Setting the book down first, and the flask last. Iceland remembered what Norway had said, "If you have any questions ask the book, or ask the pixies." Iceland looked at the book, and then back at the trees behind him. The trees seemed to have a pink cotton candy-like web on parts of it. He thought about it for a second before weakly calling "Pixies?"

He heard a bunch of high pitched squeals and giggles before several little glowing blue and pink lights came out of the trees. A little pink one flew towards him, and the rest of the lights disappeared. In front of him was a little female pixie. She had a pink leaf dress on and small ballet slippers. Her blond hair was pulled into pigtails that draped down her front. Her little blue eyes blinked and her clear wings batted a million times a second. The small pixie giggled in her high-pitched voice, "Hello sirrr, I'm Rosebuddd, Howw can I help yeww?"

Iceland looked at the small woman. "Um. I was wondering what these items are." Iceland motioned to the few objects laying out in front of him. The pixie giggled.

"Well..." She pointed to the book, "Thaaat's a boook." Iceland looked at her blankly.

"I know what they are!" Iceland scoffed, "I want to know what they do. Why they're important to me. And how I use them..."

"Well why didnnn't yeww saay sooo?" The pixie giggled yet again. She sat on top of the book and ran her hand up and down it, "This iss papaa Norwaay's boook." She shot him a look of daggers, "Whaat are yeww doing wiff iit?"

Iceland threw his hands up in defense. "He's the one that gave it to me."

"Oh." The pixie blinked, "Well thees iss a maaagical boook. Just like the waand, flassk, glovees, and sweeeets. It's all maagic." Iceland just stared at the pixie. Magic! He was 100% not magic. What good would these things do for him?

"I doon't know whaat to tellll yeww. Yeww shoould jusst waaait foor papaa Norwaay to coome and tellll yeww." The pixie shrugged and fluttered off.

As if on cue, Iceland heard an annoyed sigh that sounded much like a certain person he had met recently. "I see you stayed exactly where I left you. Tch, what happened to me telling you to wander."

Iceland threw off his last comment, "What do I do with this stuff? I am not magic. I hope you knew that."

Norway laughed, "Of course you aren't magic. There's something you have to have in order for you to become magic here."

"And what exactly would that be?" Iceland asked.

Norway only smiled.


End file.
